Obscure: An Enderman's Story
by TimothyCrafter12
Summary: Tamer the Enderman has always been different. He's always wished he could do something about the oppression in the End. When he runs away and meets a human girl, everything changes. Together, they can solve the problems facing them both, and show the world that sometimes the answer is not so obscure.
1. Decisions and Thoughts

The Enderman wrapped his skinny arms around himself and shivered. For days it had been like this; frigid and full of powerful gales. He tugged on the edges of the thin wool toque he wore. It was his only piece of protection against the unforgiving night, and the only piece of clothing in his clan. He never wore it in the End; society forbade him to, and he could have been be sorely punished if he were discovered to be violating laws that were millions of years old. Now, though; he was alone, with no sign of other life except for the hostile mobs patrolling the horizon and a group of creepers wandering around the trees. He walked forward ever so slightly, and snow crunched under his feet. The moonlight reflected off the layer of white covering everything, turning the night into a blustering sort of semi-fairyland. A snowflake fell with a feathery touch onto the knit wool of his hat. The scene could have been pleasant, if it were not for what he had been sent to this place to do.

He inched his way out of the dense forest cautiously, but there was no need; everyone in the small snow-covered settlement was indoors and oblivious to the Enderman outside in the storm. Even so, he tried to make as little sound as possible. You couldn't take any chances.

As he was walking down a street, he noticed a small sign, nailed to a post. It was barely visible underneath the sparkling blanket of snow. "Beacon Road," it read. The Enderman looked into one of the frosted-over windows and could just make out a tall, strong-built man, a kind-looking, beautiful woman, and a small light-haired child dressed in a baggy shirt and an oversized pair of overalls. They were handing each other small boxes wrapped in colourful paper and tied with big bows. When they were opened, they revealed all manner of wonderful gifts. As he gazed wistfully into the glass-paned window, a small tear formed on the edge of his huge purple eye as he looked upon the happy family. One more thing he would never get to have.

He looked at the clock in the warm little house and came out of his daze with a start. It was quite late, and he knew that coming back without anything would get him nothing but pain and humiliation. He sighed and turned his back to the soft glow of the window. Near him was a small meadow, frosted over and blanketed with a thick layer of snow. He shivered and clumped over to the field, wet packing snow sticking to his feet.

He reached through the snow, wincing as it soaked his palms. He managed to work a chunk of frozen dirt loose from the ground, with some snow still on top. He wrapped his arms around it and closed his eyes. He concentrated hard on the place he had to go. Back home, to the End. A peculiar tingling feeling spread up his legs, to his stomach and his head. Purple particles began to swirl around him. By the time the feeling reached to the top of his head, where his toque was, there was no sign he had been there but the imprints of his thin feet, which were slowly filling with snow, soon to be gone without a trace.


	2. Pensive Daydreams

He appeared in the End, his feet a few blocks from the pale grayish-cream smooth stone. He landed with a thud. gasping for air and sinking to his knees. He tore off his toque and hastily shoved it behind his back, just in time. Crowds of Endermen younger than he, his age and older pushed him aside to get to a large mountain of End Stone. A static sky seemed to hum above them, pitch black with grains of blue and green. He skidded to a stop directly in front of the mountain's face, melting snow still dripping off his feet. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of his race, gazed, waiting, at the side of the stone. A scraping sound grated on his ears, and as they watched, the End Stone opened up to reveal a long tunnel, deep and dark as the Endermen entering. He stepped down into the drafty passage, not even noticing the droplets of water oozing through cracks in the ceiling. He was used to it.

The hole opened into a lighted chamber, with floors of obsidian and a faded painting on the ceiling. The painting displayed an Enderman and a human fighter holding swords. The swords were crossed over the center of the room. Around the painting in curly writing, painted by some ancient hand, were the words "WE ARE BROTHERS YET DEADLY ENEMIES." The Enderman didn't need to know who it was referring to. The whole race knew the story.

A tall, strong Enderman appeared on the platform at the back of the room. "Silence!" he roared, and the room, once full of anxious chatter, fell starkly silent. The word hung heavy in the air, and though the leader's voice was strong and intimidating, there was a slight tremble to the word that suggested he was afraid of something, something far more powerful. Yet the speaker began to bellow again, his strange voice echoing off the cavern's walls.

"Show me the takings that you have stolen from the Overworld. Quickly, all of you, or there will be a sure chance of punishment." There was suddenly a great hubbub of Endermen concentrating assorted chunks of Overworld blocks into their outstretched hands. Flurries of purple sparks popped into the air as blocks materialized. Each Enderman suddenly began to stride towards a pair of large ornate doors, made out of obsidian with purple amethyst-coloured accents. When they were all standing in front of the doors, the speaker produced a clipboard and began to check off names. Names. Their names were curious ones; definitely not the names of any humans. But they were interesting names. Some could even be called beautiful.

As their names came out of the mouth of the speaker, Endermen entered the doors and placed their blocks down in the area beyond. At last his name was called, and the Enderman stepped forward, holding up his block to make sure it was seen. A soggy chunk of land, with a few strands of yellow grass hanging off of it. The doors creaked open, just enough for him to stumble in.

The inside was a vast cavern in the mountainside, filled with thousands of different types of blocks. Long wooden planks leaning against a pile of blue-specked dirt the size of a house, beside a veritable lake of water, which glimmered in the light let in by the opening door. Over by the other corner, a lava lake boiled beside a tall stack of slightly melted empty iron buckets. He shakily placed his soaked block beside a huge pile of other grass blocks, and scurried out the door. He didn't want to stay long, as something about this place gave him the creeps. There was an aura of pure fear emanating from the place.

The doors swung open to reveal the smaller cavern. As he walked in, the speaker noticed him. "Tamer!" he barked. "What takes you so immensely long in there, hmm? Speed up or you will be punished, like Cyan here!" He pointed with his free hand to his other, and Tamer, the Enderman, noticed that he was holding the shoulders of a thin Enderman, definitely a child, much younger than he. He must have been around 12,000 years old by his looks. He had deep bruises under his eyes, and his knees were covered with painful-looking scrapes. Tamer himself was slightly older than 14,000. The younger Enderman wore a look of utter terror, and tears threatened to spill down his face. He was obviously trying not to cry out, as the speaker held him in an almost suffocating position. "This," he said sharply, jerking the young Enderman to face the awed audience, "is what could happen to you if you ever forget your blocks!" He shook the bony shoulders of the other to emphasize each cutting word. He threw the boy into the cruel hands of two guards, who dragged him off, pleading and crying, into another door sliding shut with a resounding click. The sound of his screams still reverberated off the curved walls of the cavern.

The speaker smirked grimly. "You must leave now. Go to your dwellings. He will not want us to watch him. Go!" He made a motion with his hand towards the tunnel leading back to the open air. The Endermen hustled out, muttering to each other. A cold draft blew around the cream-coloured stalactites and stalagmites, but Tamer didn't shiver. He was too lost in thought to notice.

Crouched in the dim, dank dwelling, all anyone could talk about was the young Enderman who had forgotten to take a block. Cyan. Tamer himself didn't join the chatter; he had locked himself inside his own mind. Voices could be heard, whispering filling the holes in the stone. A musty smell pervaded the space. Those were the dwellings; simply hollowed-out holes in the End Stone with a few ragged cloths to sleep on. That was all they owned. All they could ever call their own. It was a pathetic situation, yet one that may never be solved. Or so they thought.

"Tamer," said a soft voice. He snapped back to life at the sound of his own name. He spun around. "Tamer, I have finished dinner. Come over," said his mother, a faint smile breaking through her solemn face. He crawled through a tiny tunnel in the rock to what they considered the kitchen. A small fire crackled in one corner, and Tamer's mother pulled a small iron pot off the heat. She poured some of its contents into a collection of small bowls. As his many brothers and sisters scurried into the room, Tamer stared down into the murky depths of his own bowl. As usual, it was a questionable porridge, the colour of the End Stone surrounding them and specked with brown. Wheat porridge; of course. It tasted all right...if you swallowed it immediately and/or held your nose. He took a halfhearted spoonful and forced it down. He grimaced. If only he had a choice...but the only thing ever grown here was wheat, in the superficial farming held on the Great Leader's island. The porridge they had to live on was nothing much, just enough to keep you alive. But Tamer found his stomach to be still growling like a vicious wolf, like the ones he had seen in the Overworld, even after he'd had his allotted bowl. The wheat farms were deep underground, like the dwellings. To the Great Leader, that was all they were. Slaves.


	3. Reaching Out

The next day, Tamer opened his eyes and shivered. It was freezing cold in the drafty dwelling, and the frayed rag he was lying on did little to help. His toque might have lessened the cold on his poor body, but he couldn't be seen wearing it, even in the dwelling. His family could see him, and even though they shared the same blood, they would definitely turn him over to the Great Leader. Nobody, in this land at least, would risk being at the mercy of the Great Leader, no matter what the orders could be. He could be cruel at best, and had been known to take lives without remorse. It would not matter to the Great Leader. The only life he wished to protect was his own. The only reason he kept the Endermen alive was to serve him as slaves. This rule seemed to be carved in stone; disobey and die. That was the way of life, there in the barren, oppressed island in the vast Void of nothing.

Tamer dragged his half-asleep body out of the tiny tunnel into the vast End plains. He yawned and inhaled a blast of frigid air. He dissolved into a bout of coughing, and a passing Enderman stopped to check if he was all right. There weren't so many Endermen left those days, so pretty much everyone knew each other. The reason that they were gone... it was a fate nobody wanted to think of, let alone speak about. It happened every so often, when someone went to the Overworld and wasn't cautious not to attract the attention of a particular human. Tamer had heard horror stories of sharp swords and water buckets, of frantic teleporting and unimaginable pain. How could this be anyone's fate, being killed by a human?

The dim light of the 'classroom' forced Tamer to have to squint at the front of the room, where a tall, lanky Enderman squatted. He was whispering things to a couple of twin purple-pigtailed Endergirls, who used the obsidian and ground-wheat writing tool to scrawl something on the paper made of pressed wheat stalks. They were learning, albeit secretly. The race of Endermen weren't supposed to- allowed to- go to school. When would they ever need it if all they would ever do was serve the Great Leader? But some Endermen did want to learn. It was their way of having a rebellious side, to reach out to a world beyond the barren island's confines, to be able to imagine a world where maybe, just maybe, there could be happiness.

He hardly listened to the whispered words of the Enderman teaching them. He would tell them the languages of many races, the biomes and landforms of the Overworld above, why the land was under control of the Great Leader. The stories were often quite interesting; yet today Tamer wasn't listening to one word that passed the lips of the teacher. He was thinking about what he'd seen of the humans. Most Endermen thought of humans as a cruel race whose mission was to rid the universe of them, a race that cared only about themselves and their gleaming, deadly swords. But not Tamer. He had always stopped to look in the windows of the houses, stopped to watch a lone farmer doing some midnight work. Secretly he didn't want to hurt a human, but he didn't want to think about the possibilities if anyone found out about his thoughts. He made up his mind to do his best to avoid having to come in contact with any dangerous human. Tamer had seen what they'd do to anyone who turned traitor. Tortured, then maybe even killed. Everyone had heard the tortured screams of any rule-breakers. Most died, and those who survived the blows would live with horrible injury. The oppression on the End was horrible, but the worst part was that no one was powerful enough to stop it.


	4. Unspoken

Teleportation was especially tiring the next day. Tamer had stayed up most of the night thinking, so he was exhausted and half-asleep the next morning. Though his body was slow and unresponding, thoughts were still whirling around inside his head like a tornado. During the day, Endermen would normally do slave labour for the Great Leader, but today there was no whispered command in the sky above the End, no directions as to what to do. Days like these came very rarely, and usually meant that the Great Leader was deep in thought. He seldom thought of the welfare of his servants. Tamer knew what he would do on a day like this.

He skulked off to a niche in the End Stone, where he couldn't be seen from the clearing. He tucked his arms around himself and thought very hard of a small island of stone, a little ways off from the End. He suddenly felt himself tingling all over. A flurry of purple dust began to swirl in clouds around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tamer felt as if he were spinning around in circles, too. All of a sudden, the feeling was over, and Tamer collapsed on the ground of a small chunk of End Stone, miles off from the End. He felt slightly sick and fatigued. He heard a sound above him, and he looked up. "Tamer!" a voice cried. His vision came into focus, and he saw an Enderman looking down at him. A girl; her hair was tied into a purple ponytail. She began to giggle. "What did you do? Let me guess; you forgot to teleport from Light's End, right?" Light's End was the tip of the main End island. It was closest to the little island they were standing on, and anyone teleporting here from Light's End would not be so tired; yet from the outside of Tamer's home, it would be a lengthy distance to teleport. The girl Enderman offered a hand, and Tamer gripped it. He stood up shakily, and the world seemed to spin around him. He regained his balance and let go of the other's hand. "I'm okay now, you know, Salem," he said sheepishly. The girl, Salem, grinned at him. "Alright, Tamer. But don't you come running to me when you fall over again!" Tamer playfully poked her in the shoulder, but she just doubled over laughing. Tamer couldn't help himself; he started to laugh too.

He walked over to a corner of the island. There were many tiny, makeshift huts set up here; it was a bit of an escape for some of the young Endermen. Tamer often thought that he'd have gone insane if it weren't for here, a place where they could do things out of the sight of the Great Leader or their parents. Salem retreated into one of the huts and returned lugging a canvas made of wheat stalks. On it was a stunning painting of a creeper, staring out at Tamer. "D'you like it?" said Salem. "I've been working on it for a long time, so..." Tamer gazed at the painting. Every little detail was right, from the blades of grass to the tiny gleam in the creeper's eye. "It's amazing!" stated Tamer simply. "Y'really think so?" said Salem. Tamer nodded. "Yup," he said.

Salem turned from the painting, which she laid on the ground. "Alright, where's everyone else? I mean, there's no work today. They shouldn't be late." She stalked off in a huff and plopped onto a raised piece of stone. "Grr!" she growled. "I cannot BELIEVE the nerve of them! I mean, Cyan I can understand. After..." Her voice trailed off and she averted her eyes to avoid looking into Tamer's. She didn't finish, but Tamer knew what she was going to say. After the torture. Of course. Nobody wanted to speak of it, and it had become an unspoken rule among Endermen society.

A sound issued from the space behind one hut. "Must be them, right?" chirped Salem, who glanced briefly at Tamer, then hurried to the source of the sound. Tamer followed, to see Salem standing beside another Enderman. "Obsidian!" she yelled. The Enderman named Obsidian gave Tamer a watery smile. "Ah, yes. Tamer. Good to see you again." Tamer nodded. "Yes, Obsidian," replied Salem. "And how's Cyan?"

Obsidian was the one who had taken close care of Cyan after the events of the last night. He gave a grim smile. "Yes, he'll live now. Had some pretty nasty bruises, though. They all do, and he's no exception, weak as he is." He suddenly grinned fully, like a ray of sunlight piercing a layer of dark clouds. "Hey, Tamer! Did you hear? I've got a great story for you. Cyan told me while I was helping him. It's why he didn't come back with anything," he said confidentially, and edged closer to Salem and Tamer. Salem flashed him a grin. "Let's hear it, then, Sid," she warbled. Tamer nodded, signalling Obsidian to go on. "Don't call me Sid," mumbled Obsidian, but then he looked up and began to relate the story.

"Cyan's foray into the Overworld started out pretty normal," said Obsidian, "but he strayed across the village on the way to the mine. He was going to try to get a block of some impressive ore, but he should have taken the long way, around the village. He was...spotted."

Salem winced. "Poor Cy. Why did he go and have to stroll across the village streets like that? I mean, it was only sunset." Obsidian nodded. "Yes, Salem. Village walks are all very well in the pitch dark of night, but at sunset, the humans can see you. Cyan probably knew that, but was in a hurry to grab the blocks before anyone else did. He didn't think that anyone could see him, but he was spotted by a human. This human was a guard. A mob hunter, to be exact. He drew his sword and chased Cyan. Cyan panicked and teleported back to the End, blocks the last thing on his mind," he said simply.

Salem was staring, round-eyed, at Obsidian. "And is he okay now, Sid?" Obsidian nodded, and as an afterthought, he cast an annoyed glance at Salem. "And don't call me Sid."

Tamer was in too much of a daze to laugh. I can't believe they would torture anyone for only forgetting a simple duty, he thought pensively. Cyan was only 13,000. He didn't deserve it. Now that I think of it, nobody does.

He got up slowly, and mumbled a quick excuse to Obsidian and Salem. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around himself, and pictured the spiky rock of Light's End. He didn't want to fall over from fatigue now. Violet particles swirled around him as he disappeared from view and reappeared on a large rock, at Light's End.

Tamer sat down for only a few seconds, to regain enough strength to walk-no, run-to his home. When he arrived, he jumped down the tunnel, and hurriedly began to gather up his toque and the rag he slept on. He glanced around the hole one last time, then closed his eyes. Images flashed through his mind, rapidly one after the other. His first day outside the hole...his initiation as part of the Endermen's country...his triumph after his teleportation test. His whole life, Tamer had lived here, in the End. What lay outside the island? Oppressed though it may have been, it was familiar to him. Earth was all but impossible to navigate, a new world he'd only explored in the dark of night.

All the Endermen he knew lived in the End. Salem, Obsidian, Cyan, his mother...yet inside, he knew they'd never break ancient laws for him. What had they ever done for him? Yet if he left, he'd be totally alone in the world. Tamer's resolve didn't waver. He climbed out of the dwelling, his hand lightly brushing the wall of the tunnel as he clambered into the open air. He scampered to Light's End, the toque and the cloth in his arms. Tamer ran up to the very pinnacle of the overhang, nearly skidding into the Void. He wrapped his arms around himself, and took a deep breath. His heart rate quickened steadily as he concentrated his whole mind on a place he knew would be far away. A tornado of purple dust swirled around him. Just as he was about to vanish, he reached with one hand into the bundle in his arms and slipped on his wool toque.


	5. A New Start

Endless plains, a cornflower-blue sky. Tamer suddenly appeared in the midst of a large area of swaying, dull green grass, kissed by the soft morning sunlight. He crumpled to his knees and sank face-down on the ground. He felt sick and dizzy, and he simply was content to lie there, still. Nothing mattered except for the fact that he was safe and away. He'd have to get up eventually, but it felt as if he were under tons of iron weights and couldn't move. His breathing was deep, yet far between. He'd just wait and see what would happen, but he could stay here all he wanted. _No more slave labour,_ he thought drowsily. _I'm alone in an unfamiliar place, but it's got to be better than what I've endured for fourteen thousand years of my life. I...am...free._ Tamer was free. He inhaled the fresh smell of dew and the thought. Then, he cleared his mind and let himself drift into oblivion.

When he awoke for the second time, the blue sky had turned into a rich navy, speckled with pale stars. Tamer no longer felt dizzy, so he raised his head from the grainy dirt under the grass. He sat up and brushed a few flecks of dirt and strands of grass from his face. His forehead, under his toque, lay immaculate. Rolling hills staggered like waves in an ocean surrounded him. From behind one of the hills came a cacophony of shouted voices, punctuated by clinks of metal and the dying screams of mobs. Tamer winced to hear those. For a while, Tamer sat in silence, waiting for the noise to die down. Soon, the noise seemed to head in the opposite direction, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Now maybe he could find somewhere to live in his new life, perhaps a cave or something...

Tamer sat bolt upright. He'd heard something; some leaves rustling. Yet there was no sign of the group of humans he had hid from earlier...this must mean there were more. Just as he was about to run behind another hill, a human burst out from behind it!

He froze. Maybe she would be scared and run away, as she didn't look very old. As the humans went, she must have been around fourteen or fifteen. There was plains grass in her dark chestnut-coloured hair, and she was wearing an iron chestplate over her clothes. As she gazed at Tamer, she started to mutter something. Surprisingly, she walked closer to Tamer, even allowing herself to stop in front of him. She sat down beside him, and started to say something in English. After a few words, though, she realized it would be slightly difficult for Tamer to understand and did what he had seen no other human do before. She began to say something in Ender.

"Hello. My...name is...Caelan."

Tamer nodded vigorously. He wanted to work up the courage to speak, but the horror stories of humans told by the older ones in the End were like a vice over his mouth. He knew, somehow, inside, that this Caelan wouldn't hurt him. Yet he couldn't speak for a minute. Speaking to a human...that was an ancient rule that was never to be broken. Your past is over, he told himself. Leave the End behind you and start your new life. Tamer took a deep breath and said, "Hello."

Tamer held his breath and waited for the sky to fall. Yet nothing happened. Caelan's face broke into a wide smile. "Hello," she said again, in Tamer's native language. She smiled gently at him, and all his fear fell away. Caelan didn't move, though; and Tamer was about to walk over when she suddenly stopped tensely. "Don't move." she whispered to him. She stood up and turned around. He was about to call after her, to tell her not to go, but he forced himself to remain silent. He, too, had heard the rustling leaves. Nobody had to tell him to run; he found some especially tall grass and curled up behind it. He hid just in time for a burly, strong-looking man to rip through the bush toward Caelan. "Cae, there you are. You really shouldn't run off like that, not when there are dangerous monsters around." Tamer suppressed a smile. He hadn't seen any other mobs around the area, and suspected that most of them were where the mob hunters were. "Oh, you dropped your sword," said what Tamer thought was Caelan's father. "Now let's go fight some monsters!" Just then, Caelan fell over, clutching her head. "Dad, I-I can't. I have a...headache." The man patted her shoulders. "Well, maybe not tonight," he relented. "Pity, though. There were lots of zombies out there. They'd be great practice for your sword skills. One day, you're going to make an amazing mob hunter, you know, Cae?" He led her out behind the hill, but when her father wasn't watching, she turned around and winked at Tamer.

After they had gone, Tamer rolled over onto his back and gazed at the night sky. It looked like a pitch-black blanket covering the world, peppered with millions of tiny white stars. A cloud drifted lazily over the moon, and Tamer felt something small, cold and wet touch his face. A few more snowflakes drifted around him, and he pulled his knees up to his chest. He tugged some thick dried grass on the ground over him, and after a while, he fell asleep.


	6. Wondering and New Acquaintances

_The sky seemed to burn as the screaming filled the air. Grass caught fire and was extinguished by the running feet of Endermen and humans alike. Clouds of dust and smoke settled over the land, as old homes crackled and were engulfed in flames. The dying cries of Endermen cut through the ears of everyone fighting. The Endermen fought on bravely, under the beating wings of a dragon as black as the smoke and the night sky. Yet the humans numbered far more than the Endermen did, and even the great Dragon was overwhelmed. There were too many..._

_"Take Tamer and go!" He felt himself being jostled, heard the screaming of his father behind him. His mother grasped his hand and yanked him across the bridge, which was now being viciously attacked by the spreading fire. It snapped just as Tamer nearly fell into the raging river. Just as Tamer was about to grasp his mother's arm to teleport to a safer place, a new bout of explosions rocked the ground and forced Tamer to stumble and fall. He tried to breathe, but only dust covered his face. His tears cut trails in the dirt and grime on his face. 'This is it.' he thought desperately. 'I'm going to die here.' Then, a voice cut through the screaming and the crying and the blasts. 'Come with me!' it said. 'Tamer...' He reached up and took the hand outstretched to him. 'Wake up!'_

"Wake up, Tamer!" He opened his eyes and found, embarrassed, that they had tears in them. "You were mumbling something...something about escaping...are you okay?" Caelan was standing over him, staring at him with a concerned expression. Tamer shook his head and smiled. "I-I'm fine. Just a bad dream, all right?" Caelan gave him a thumbs-up signal. "Good to hear." What he didn't tell her was that the dream came from a memory, the earliest and worst memory of his life. The Day of Exile. He had been very young, but the images in his mind were as clear as ever. The day they had began to live in the End.

Come to think of it, Tamer had no memories of life before The End. Whenever he attempted to recall anything before the Day of Exile, all he could see was a blur, like one of the puzzle pieces of his life were missing. Of course, it had been thousands of years ago, but it was one more reason to fix the endless problem of Enderman slavery.

"Hey, Caelan...where do you live?" He had dreamed for years of this moment; he was learning more and more about human life, and everything reinforced his belief that humans weren't totally cruel. Time and time again, he had seen a human home, or seen one of them doing some late chores. Or perhaps he had looked in a window, like he had done on that snowy night. Yet never anything like this.

She gazed off to somewhere in the distance, past the hills of the plains. Tamer could just make out the silhouettes of square buildings in the distance. Caelan pointed her index finger into the mist. "Around there." she chirped. "First house on the left of Oak Street. I'd take you there, but..." She looked off silently into the fog for a long while. Then she pivoted suddenly to face Tamer. "Nothing," she mumbled quickly. Then her face reverted to the bright and cheerful look she had worn when meeting him. Tamer suddenly remembered something. "Oh, derp!" he cried, smacking his forehead with his hand. "What time is it?" Caelan gave a soft laugh. "Haha, it's rather late in the morning. I'd say it was around eleven." The snow that had begun to fall when he fell asleep lay in a thin layer over everything. Tamer nodded. "Now how'd you sneak out? I saw that man who burst out of the bushes; I bet he was your father." She nodded sadly. "Yeah, but I didn't say I was proud of it. He's a great mob hunter and all, but mob hunting just isn't my thing, you know?"

Tamer grimaced. "Yup," he said, completely understanding the feeling. "Anyways, I got out using the loose window in my room. All I have to do is jump from my window to the roof, and then onto the fence. I climb down and scurry away. Pretty easy, but the hard thing is coming up with an excuse to be away so long." Caelan suddenly grinned. "Apparently I'm at the library, studying from 'Mob Hunting and You'." Tamer flashed the smile back. Then he turned to face her. "Before you met me, why'd you sneak out? There must have been some reason." Caelan assumed a very serious expression, and turned away from Tamer.

"Come."

That was all she said before she stepped behind one of the hills. Tamer followed her, afraid of being lost and alone again. Caelan stepped into a small hole in the ground. It was surrounded by grass, so it was rather difficult to locate it. Tamer hopped into the cave as well.

Inside the cave, there wasn't just stone. Tables surrounded the center of a circular room. Various charts were pasted on the walls. "Creeper Explosion Patterns" read one. Papers carpeted the floor, and clipboards rested on the tables, along with pictures of other monsters. _Like me,_ Tamer thought grimly._ I wonder if she really thinks I'm a monster._ As Caelan entered the room, she tore off the iron chestplate and cast it to the side, where it clattered against some table legs. There were a few wobbly-looking chairs, and she flopped down in one of them. Tamer took the next one. "Don't worry about reading or anything. I can speak...and read... English," laughed Tamer, in that language. He'd picked it up while listening to human conversations all these years.

Caelan seemed to relax with relief. "Finally, someone I can actually talk to!" she cried. Something inside Tamer seemed to light up. He grinned, which most Endermen rarely do. "Yes, me too!" he said excitedly. Caelan nodded. "My parents have very high expectations for me. They want me to...well," She grimaced. "They want me to hunt mobs. Monsters. Even Endermen like you! But I don't think you're monsters," she added hastily, seeing the horrified look on Tamer's face. "We've got a lot to learn from you. Learning about each other unlocks new worlds. Look around you!" she said. She swept her arm in a circular gesture around the room. "This room contains all I know. Nobody...I mean nobody...can ever see this. If anyone ever found out what I was...there's no telling what would happen to me. My society thinks you're all monsters, to be exterminated on sight!" She slapped her hand to her forehead, then lifted it and looked at him. "If I'd been any of the mob-hunting people I think you heard behind the hill earlier, you might not have survived. But I think I'm different, and somehow I think you are too. I have this feeling about you." Caelan cocked her head to the side. "Are you?"

Tamer didn't know how it happened, but at those words, his whole story seemed to pour out of him. Every feeling he'd ever felt, his feelings about humans, his other Enderman friends, growing up in the End, knowing his friends were being tortured and not being able to do anything, Light's End, the Great Leader, running away... he told Caelan about it all. Thousands of years of pent-up energy, of not being able to tell anyone anything, he let go. Relief flooded through him. Finally, he was able to tell someone what he was thinking! He ended with, "And now I'm here, yet I've got this feeling that I have to... have to... gah, I don't even know! And I...I don't know what to do," he added quietly, a tear threatening to fall. "I don't know what to do now."


End file.
